


call me a rebel

by lizamarri



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: :), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Annabeth Chase is a Good Friend, Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson Fluff, Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson-centric, BAMF Annabeth Chase, BAMF Percy Jackson, Blue Food (Percy Jackson), College, Consensual Sex, Enjoy my lovelies!, F/M, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mixed Race Percy Jackson, Non-Graphic Smut, POV Annabeth Chase, Percy is a Dork, Percy transfers from nyu, Punk, Punk Percy, Punk Percy Jackson, Punk!Percy - Freeform, Sex, annabeth isn't a goody two shoes tho, don't worry it's just gabe being a dick, i should be finishing my slow burns but i just wrote 8k of stupid fluff, im just a waste of quarenspace, in cali, oh and, percabeth, persassy and persnarky, persassy bitches, piper is a good friend too, platonic piperbeth - Freeform, punk!percyjackson, she just thinks he's hot, they're at ucla, tropey but in a good way, what can you do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:08:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23762842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizamarri/pseuds/lizamarri
Summary: When Percy Jackson shows up to Annabeth's college weeks into the term, she's intrigued. What intrigues her the most is the way he looks. Ripped black jeans, a band t-shirt and a damn silver lip ring that moves when he talks.But one thing she didn't expect from first sight?Percy's snarky. An ass, to be honest. Rude and incorrigible, everything she doesn't like. That stupid crooked grin on his face...This shouldn't make him more hot, right?~College Punk!Percy au
Relationships: Annabeth Chase & Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase & Percy Jackson & Piper McLean, Annabeth Chase & Piper McLean, Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Chiron & Percy Jackson, Percy Jackson & Piper McLean, percabeth - Relationship, platonic piperbeth
Comments: 20
Kudos: 295
Collections: Percabeth





	1. lip rings and blue hair

“New guy.”

Annabeth snaps her head up. “What?”

Piper huffs. “New guy. There’s a new guy coming in today. He’s from New York.”

Rolling her eyes, Annabeth quickly writes another sentence. “Why do I care?”

“Come on,” Piper complains. “You’re so focused on your work all the time, you need to take a break! Look around, bag a date. Or a hook-up. Loosen up, while you’re at it.”

Annabeth says, “I don’t want to hook up with someone. I want to do my NSL homework.”

“Screw NSL homework,” Piper commands, snatching the sheet out of Annabeth’s hands. “We’re going boy hunting.”

Annabeth glares at her. She jumps up, trying to grab her homework back from Piper. In her haste, her backpack is knocked to the floor. Annabeth tries and fails again to get her homework. Defeated, she stands there. “I don’t need a boy, Pipe.”

Piper grimaces. “Girl then? Are you trying to tell me something, Annie?”

“Don’t call me Annie,” Annabeth mumbles. “And I’m not… oh fuck.”

Piper cackles. “Well, you’re definitely into dudes.”

Standing in the doorway is a man she’s never seen before. Normally she doesn’t categorize every person she’s ever seen, but she’d remember him. 

He’s tall. Tan skin, so tan in fact that it’s probably naturally an olive hue. Beautiful black hair is swept messily over his forehead, slightly curly and tipped with bright blue dye. Her eyes travel to his face. Mystery Boy has a stupidly sharp jaw, wicked green eyes, and a lip ring that makes her feel lightheaded. 

Well.

Faintly, Annabeth can hear half the girls and a few boys whispering about bagging him. Mystery Boy walks forward, and metal jangles faintly. There’s a chain at his hip. Of fucking course he has a belt chain, she thinks hysterically. Of course.

Ripped black jeans stretch in a way that should not be hot (He’s just walking! Why are you sexualizing walking!) as Mystery Boy slides into Annabeth’s seat. All her belongings were knocked out of the way in her quest for her NSL homework.

Mystery Boy bites his lip ring and acts like he can’t hear all of the whispers around him. 

Annabeth tries to regain most of her composure. “Um, excuse me?”

Mystery Boy ignores her. 

She taps on his shoulder, fingers making a snapping sound on the leather. “Hello?”

“What is it?” Mystery Boy asks, staring at her with his green eyes. 

Annabeth straightens her spine. “That’s, uh, that’s my seat.”

Mystery Boy smiles softly, turning his gaze back to the front. “There aren’t any assigned seats, Princess.”

Annabeth frowns. “You know what I mean. I was sitting here, right before you came in. And don’t call me princess.”

“Finders keepers,” Mystery Boy suggests. “There’s plenty of other seats here, princess.”

Annabeth’s not looking at his eyes anymore, hell, she’s mad enough that she can barely see his nimble fingers twirl a ballpoint pen like he’s been practicing all his life. “This is my seat, idiot. Please get out of it.”

“Or… what, you’ll make me?” Mystery Boy’s smirk is back, and his voice is taunting. “Yeah, no. You crazy Californians, man. Should have gone to NYU.”

Annabeth grinds her teeth. “Well you hardly look smart enough for here. Move, Seaweed Brain.”

“That one’s ingenuitive,” He remarks. “How’d you come up with that, Rapunzel?”

She won’t tell him the truth, that the reason is because his eyes are the color of a vibrant green ocean. “Guess I’m smarter than you.”

“Smarter or wiser?”

“What?”

Mystery Boy tilts his head an inch. “You heard me. Be smart or be wise.”

Annabeth scoffs. “What are you, my physiatrist?” There’s a three second pause. “Wiser. How you use knowledge is far more important than the fact that you have it.”

“Then you can go and find a different seat, Wise Girl,” Mystery Boy says. “If you’re wise enough, I should be just a little too scary for you.”

The professor walks into the room, and Annabeth is forced to sit. There’s an open seat on the other side of Piper, so it isn’t the end of the world, but that’s  _ her seat _ . Hers and only hers. The entire class knows it. And it’s the perfect seat; It’s close enough to the screen and the whiteboard to keep her dyslexia under control, and also close enough to keep her attention, but far enough away not to be practically underneath Professor Brunner. 

And what irks her the most is that the bastard outwitted her. She has a reputation for being sharp tongued and unapologetic about it. Then this little punk comes in and beats her in minutes? Was she really that distracted by a pretty face?

Wait, no. Mystery Boy is not  _ pretty _ , he’s annoying. Very annoying. Irritating. Bothersome. Aggravating. Irksome. Vexing.

She’s running out of synonyms for annoying. 

But Mr. Brunner wheels himself into the room, and she’s forced to pay attention for the time being. Brunner starts a roll call, and Annabeth calls here when her name is called. Mystery Boy looks at her slyly, and she swears to god, if he makes one comment about her name being like a princess’s she will-

“Jackson, Percy.”

“Present.”

Mr. Brunner skims him over, obviously not caring for a second about his… appearance, but rather sizing him up as a character and a student. “Welcome to Los Angeles, Mr. Jackson.”

And then he continues with his role call like nothing ever happened. 

Part of Annabeth is wondering why this guy is just showing up now. It’s been a solid two weeks since term started, how did he even get into the program? Why was he late?

“Now, as you all probably know, it is traditional for the sophomore year to close the term with a project,” Brunner states. This elicits dozens of groans and whines from the students, but Mr. Brunner holds a hand up to silence them. “I decided to make this easier on you. You are going to work with partners. Unfortunately, I have picked those partners”

Another chorus of groans echoes around the room. 

“This project is about effects of appearance on the perception of a person and the person’s own feelings. Now what people feel that makes them dress certain ways- but how they feel after dressing the way they normally do.”

A quarter of the class looks at Percy subconsciously. It looks like he didn’t notice, but Annabeth knows he did. There’s a minute tick by his eye, she can see it.

“For partners!”

Annabeth’s mind spaces out as he reads over the names, rubbing her temple as people are paired up. The list winds down, and she still hasn’t heard her name yet. 

“Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase.”

Her mouth drops open. No. Way.

Percy looks across the row. He’s only two seats away from each other. “Wonderful.”

“Hate you too,” Annabeth mutters. 

Mr. Brunner snaps his fingers. “Mr. Jackson and Ms. Chase, please find another time to squabble. Thank you.” He turns back to the whiteboard, which has a few key facts about the project on it. “This project is going to be mostly out of class, and due by the end of the semester. It’s worth thirty percent of your final grade, so it is very important that you do well. I want a five page paper, edited to the best of your abilities. Thesis and all.”

Brunner turns back to his board, writing down a few more facts. “You’re going to be getting personal with your partners for this, because you are writing about yourself, your style choices, and how your style and therefore your psyche differ or does not differ from your partners’.”

Annabeth lets her head fall down slowly, quietly, before it hits the desktop. This is just… perfect. Cracking an eye open, she sees Percy give her a wink from his desk. For a moment, she almost gives him the finger, then decides against it. The worst thing she wants right now is to find out what detention in college is like. 

When the class is over, she stands quickly and corners Percy before he can leave. “What’s your number,” she asks dryly.

Percy scoffs. “A little forward, huh Wise Girl?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Annabeth groans. “The project. We should start working on it now, I want to finish it before Christmas.”

Percy says, “Didn’t you hear? It’s not due until January, Princess.”

Annabeth closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Ok,” she stipulates. “Look at it this way, Seaweed Brain. The sooner we get this done, the less you have to see me.”

Percy rolls his eyes, then scoots over to a nearby desk. He steals a pen from Mr. Brunner’s podium, and a piece of paper from the recycling bin.

“Wow,” Annabeth remarks. “A scavenger.” 

He gives her the finger before scribbling down ten numbers on the scrap of paper. “Here. Don’t lose it, Wise Girl.”

“Oh, I wish I could,” Annabeth snaps. “I’ll text you.”

She leaves him there, inside the empty classroom. For some reason, she wants to look back on her way out. 

She texts him at seven later that night. Her number’s in his phone as ‘punk asshole’ and it’s rightfully fitting. 

**_Annabeth Chase_ **

_ Hey asshole. _

**_punk asshole_ **

_ hey princess _

_ u finish styling ur hair yet _

**_Annabeth Chase_ **

_ Smooth. Real smooth. _

_  
_ **_punk asshole_ **

_ what can I say I was raised in nyc _

_ anyways _

_ when should we meet up _

**_Annabeth Chase_ **

_ Uh… tomorrow? Probably not the library because we’ll be too loud fighting. _

**_punk asshole_ **

_ santa monica pier? _

**_Annabeth Chase_ **

_ That’s literally half an hour from where we live _

_ Why _

**_punk asshole_ **

_ the ocean is calming maybe that way I wont kill u _

_ for annoying me _

**_Annabeth Chase_ **

_ Yes yes I got the memo. _

**_punk asshole_ **

_ so… santa monica? _

**_Annabeth Chase_ **

_ I have no idea why we’re driving half an hour to work on the project _

_ But fine.  _

_ Next time I get to choose. _

**_punk asshole_ **

_ 2morrow @ 4? _

**_Annabeth Chase_ **

_ Alright then asshole _

_ See you at the water _

**_punk asshole_ **

_ god ur uncultured _

_ u’ve probably never even been on a boat or smth _

**_Annabeth Chase_ **

_ Why would i ever want to go on a boat _

**_punk asshole_ **

_ the experience, idiot _

_ wind in ur hair, sea all around u and whatnot _

**_Annabeth Chase_ **

_ So what, I can get attacked by Jaws? No thank you _

**_punk asshole_ **

_ god ur impossible _

**_Annabeth Chase_ **

_ Good to know I’m worth something. See you at the pier... _

**_punk asshole_ **

_ don’t u say it _

**_Annabeth Chase_ **

_ Asshole _

As silly as the conversation is, it’s seemed to calm her down just a little bit. Breathing again, Annabeth rests her head against the wall. The summer jobs are worth it if it means she can afford an apartment to herself. 

Now all she has to do is try not to dread tomorrow.


	2. beach fronts and boardwalks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Percy and Annabeth get to know each other a little better, both of them start to realize the other isn't so bad. Annabeth discover some... new feelings, and Percy shares some of his past.

Tomorrow is seemingly… dreadless. 

Classes fly by. Her choice to join the Arts and Architecture school was a good one, for sure. While California wasn’t her first choice of schools, the architecture program was something she really wanted. Plus, she’s talented at Arts.

Piper’s in the Herb Albert School of Music. She always gets annoyed when Annabeth asks her how her ‘singing degree’ was going. It’s a guaranteed joke between them, like how they’d always steal each other’s breakfasts. 

But Piper’s not in any of her classes today. Neither is Percy, she notices. 

Why she notices that, Annabeth doesn’t know. But the lecture is boring, and her required maths course is something she never wanted to take. It makes sense that you’d need to know some basic geometry for architecture, but did she really need all of this… nonsense?

In desperation, Annabeth lets her thoughts wander.

For an ADHD kid, she’s incredibly focused. In fact, she’s above most normal kids in that sense. But the math class is boring, and this is college. She’s an adult, she can do what she wants. 

So, she lets her mind slip. The first thought that comes to her mind is Percy.

The rational side of her brain is like, _oh my god, why are you thinking about him he’s an asshole!_

Annabeth pictures his hair, that messy undercut with a pile of soft hair on top of his head. Those blue tips that are the color of the sky right after sunset. His eyes, green like an emerald ocean. Carved cheekbones, sharp jaw, and his lip ring that moves so tauntingly when he talks-

Oh my god, she thinks. A blush migrates to her cheeks.

She’s thinking about Percy Jackson’s lips in class. She’s imagining Percy Jackson’s eyes staring into hers, and she’s picturing Percy Jackson’s lips on her own. On her jaw. On her neck.

And she can’t stop. She can’t _fucking_ stop and it’s insane. Why can’t she stop?

Ms. Dodds drones on at the front of the room, and Annabeth forces her mind off Percy Jackson before anything… embarassing can happen. 

So maybe she has a crush. 

That’s what Annabeth’s contemplating on when she walks down the boardwalk of Santa Monica. Despite never being here before, the allure of the place is obvious. Bustling crowds navigate through the roads and the pier, chatting people with drinks and swimsuits despite the fact that it’s October.

Annabeth glances down at her phone, squinting to see it in the bright light. His last text had a location sent, one Annabeth’s plugged into Google Maps. It should be right in front of her.

“Hey princess.”

Annabeth whips around to see Percy. He’s shed his jacket under the warm sun, and is sporting a band shirt turned tank top and ripped black skinny jeans. His hair is out of his eyes and they reflect the color of the sea, blue on green. 

“How are you wearing jeans in this weather?” Annabeth asks, and she kind of wants to sew her mouth closed. “It’s hot.”

Percy shrugs. “Sea breeze is cool. Besides, they’re more rip than jeans at this point. 

Annabeth makes a point not to look down at his olive legs. “Let’s get a table.”

Percy’s hand twitches like he was going to grab hers, but instead walks over to a nearby table. It’s open, but littered with trash. Percy scoops up the fry bucket and the soda cup, dumping them into a nearby trash can. 

“It’s not as crowded as it usually is,” he says. “You should see it in June. The entire pier is crammed with people.”

Annabeth frowns. “You’ve been down here before? I thought you moved from NYU?”

Percy shifts in his seat. “I… I went here on a visit with my dad.”

Annabeth tilts her head. “What…?”

“He disappeared the next summer on a boat trip and never came back.”

“Oh,” Annabeth breathes. “Oh.”

“What,” Percy jokes. “You not gonna say you’re sorry or some apologetic shit like that?”

Annabeth licks her lips and says, “My mother dropped me off on my father’s doorstep and then disappeared. My father never wanted me, and when he remarried five years later it was like I was never born. I know how flat sorry sounds.”

Percy blinks. 

Annabeth bites her lip. “Aren’t we supposed to get personal?”

“Right,” Percy coughs. “Um, despite the fact that my dad went AWOL at sea my mom is the nicest lady you’ll ever meet. She makes blue cookies better then any food I’ve ever tasted.”

“I’m an Architecture Major,” Annabeth says. “I’m going to become an architect here.”

“I’m in the Physical Sciences division,” Percy adds. “Marine and Ocean Biology. Despite my history with it, I love the ocean.”

“I’m ADHD and dyslexic,” Annabeth comments. 

Percy cracks a smile. “Me too!”

There’s an awkward silence, and Annabeth realizes they haven’t fought for a minute since they got here. Percy presses his lips together.

“You really are better by the ocean.”

Percy relaxes, his mouth falling open to a comfortable position. “Yeah. I… yeah.”

“Friends?” Annabeth asks, holding out a hand. “At least not enemies?”

Percy looks down at her hand, as if contemplating the decision. He reaches out and shakes. “Friends.”

Percy’s grip is firm and warm. His fingers are nimble like hers, but far more calloused. Annabeth clears her throat, reaching into her bag for a notepad and a pen. Those green eyes catch her every movement.

Clicking the pen, she rests it on the paper. “Any ideas? Be real with me, Jackson.”

Percy breathes for a second, then sighs. “Unlike popular opinion, I use my clothes not as armor or as a fuck you to the public, but because I just generally like how they look. They make me feel different from everybody else, and I like that.”

“I’m the opposite,” Annabeth says. “I wear these clothes because they’re comfortable, and I like fitting in.”

Percy’s lips curl into a smirk. “We really are polar opposites, huh?”

Annabeth finishes the notes of their little comparison. “I guess so, Percy.”

A little shock charges through the air, and Annabeth realizes that’s the first time she’s called that to his face. It’s the first time she’s said his name out loud even. It feels nice, familiar. She likes it.

“Ok,” Annabeth mutters. “Um, we should start forming the thesis first. I think we got a little lucky in the pairings of our personality, so it should be easy enough.”

Percy nods and swallows, and the only thing she can see for the next few seconds is his Adam's apple bobbing. 

_Focus, Chase,_ her mind whispers.

Her pen scratches the paper, sketching a little graphic organizer. “Ok, this should definitely be about the comparison of us.”

Percy nods, tossing his lip ring between his front teeth. According to Annabeth, it’s very distracting.

“So our thesis is basically you dress to blend in and I dress to stand out?”

“And,” Annabeth says. “That the ways we dress are corresponding to not only our mental desires but our physical ones as well, like comfort and the wearability of the clothes.”

Percy shifts in his seat. “Is… that it?”

“Yeah,” Annabeth admits. “Yeah, I think we’re good for now. I’ll write the introduction page, if you can take the conclusion? And then we can write about ourselves for the body material.”

“That sounds good,” Percy says. 

Neither of them move. Annabeth really, really doesn’t want to go. She wants to stay with Percy and his peculiar eyes forever.

“I should…”

“Yeah,” Percy agrees. “I’ll see you later?”

“Later,” Annabeth repeats. “Cool. Bye, Percy.” She turns tail and walks out, increasing her speed so she doesn’t do something stupid like turn around and kiss him. 

Annabeth unlocks her car, throwing the door open with unnecessary force before flopping into the driver's seat. Annabeth groans, dropping her head onto the wheel and jumping when her car beeps.

“Just go home,” She chides herself. “Go home, idiot.”

In reluctance, she starts up her engine and drives back to Los Angeles. 

In their next psychology class, Percy corners her right before she’s about to leave. 

“What is it?”

“Can we meet at your place after class tonight?” Percy asks. “I have an idea for the project but I need you there too.”

Right. The project. Because they’re  _ partners. _ Friends, barely.

“Sure,” Annabeth says. “I have something at seven, so is it ok if we do it after that?” She neglects to mention that her ‘thing at seven’ is an awkward dinner with her father’s family. 

“Ok,” Percy agrees. “Nine?”

“I’ll text you my address,” Annabeth says. “Talk to you later!” She yells over her shoulder before darting off to her next class. This is getting out of hand. 

She was always supposed to hate Percy Jackson. Hate his leather jacket, hate his blue-tipped hair. She’s not supposed to like his lip ring, or imagine how it would feel against her tongue. That’s not what she’s supposed to do. 

But despite everything, she can’t help it. 

_ Percy is your friend, _ she chides herself.  _ Do not mess that up just because you’re feeling horny. _

A naughty little voice in her mind interrupts, reminding the fact that it isn’t just sex she wants from him. Annabeth stops short in front of her next class, groaning and thumping her head on the doorway. 

After composing herself, with a dull pain pulsing from her forehead, Annabeth walks into the classroom. 

Later that night, when she pulls up to her dorm again, it’s a little past eight thirty. The family dinner that her dad insisted they have every month was a little less stuffy this time, helped along by her little half brothers who are excellent at easing tension. Actually the night had kind of been… fun.

Maybe things didn’t always have to be so awkward in her family. 

Annabeth pushes her door open and falls on the couch, pillows sighing in defeat as they’re crushed flat by her body. “Ughhh,” she groans.    
She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she registers is the doorbell ringing, and a slight pain of the pillow’s zipper against her cheek. 

Annabeth pushes off the couch, stumbling to the door and opening it. It’s Percy.

For some reason, he looks neater. than usual. Judging by his hair, maybe he actually combed it.

“Hey,” she yawns. “Sorry, I dozed off for a few minutes waiting for you. Come in.” She pulls the door open wider, gesturing for him to come inside. Her dorm’s a little messy, scattered books and pencils litter the tabletops. There’s an abandoned mug of coffee on the counter. 

“What was your idea?” Annabeth asks, and Percy turns around and kisses her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW this was supposed to be up yesterday but I COMPLETELY FORGOT i'm so sorry my lovelies here you go! And everything in this story is pre-written, don't worry. I always finish multi-chap fics before I post the first chapter. Sorry for the cliff-hanger lol, I love my owl&kelp heads  
> Hopefully this made your quarentine a little brighter!  
> -liza :)


	3. cold lip rings and discarded jackets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percabeth takes the next step. Annabeth lets loose a little, and Percy reveals his feelings
> 
> *WARNING* Non-Graphic Smut ahead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol i'm sorry this is late again i have the whole thing written out but i keep forgetting to update! see you lovelies later :*

Her brain shorts out. Like a busted circuit, or a broken microwave. Little things are all she can take in, like Percy’s hands cradling her face and his jacket cuffs brushing against her cheeks.

But it’s over as soon as it started. She’s frozen in shock, all of her body parts refusing to respond. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Percy exclaims. “Shit, I totally didn’t mean-”

Her muscles work again, and Annabeth grabs him by the lapels of his jacket and smashes their lips together. Percy does nothing for a second, and then his hand is knotting in her hair and he’s kissing her back and it’s  _ everything. _

His lips feel just like she always imagined. His cold lip ring burns against her tongue, and Percy’s hands are constantly moving across her body. She’s drunk on him, on the way he tastes and the way he moves. 

Quickly, Percy’s lips leave her own in favor of her neck, tracing kisses and bites all the way down to her collarbone. Slowly, he walks her back into a wall, grinding down on her in a way that is quite befitting to her first impression of him-  _ hot.  _

Annabeth leans back, her head thunking against the wall. “Fuck,” she strains. “Percy-”

“Tell me you want this too,” He gasps into her ear. “Or tell me to stop and I’ll stop.”

“Bedroom,” Annabeth gasps. 

She can feel his grin against her neck, those wicked teeth nipping at her. Percy latches onto her hips, walking her backwards into the bedroom. He shrugs his jacket off with a fury, exposing a black t-shirt and very defined forearms. Annabeth grips them. Faintly, she hears the sound of his jacket hitting the floor. She tugs at Percy’s shirt, and he gets the memo. It flies off within seconds. 

Annabeth falls on his chest with delight, tracing the tattoos that live there. One, below his collarbone, is constructed of curving Greek words. Another is a three-inch trident, just above his hip bone. 

Annabeth surprises herself by discovering she wants to lick them. 

Percy pulls her onto the bed, clothing flying off between the two of them.

“Look in the bed-side table,” Annabeth chokes.

Time turns to liquid when he’s on top of her, the way his hands skim her sides and jaw reverently. The smooth flex of his thighs leaves her gasping, pleading with him for more. 

Percy murmurs a question into her ear, and it’s all she can do to nod. He runs a hand up the inside of her leg, and shifts his hips forward, and-

Oh.

Oh holy  _ god. _

What wakes her is the sun.

Annabeth stretches minutely in the bed. She groans softly, shifting on the sheets. 

Doesn’t she always shut the curtains before she goes to bed?

Something moves behind her, and a warm arm curls around her stomach. She stiffens automatically, then relaxes and rolls over. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Percy slurs. He’s still half asleep. “Why’s it so early?”

“Sun.” Annabeth smiles, biting her lip a little. His hand feels nice on her waist. “So…”

“So…” Percy mimics. There’s a very pregnant pause. “We did that.”

“Yeah.”

“And it was… good?”

“Yeah.”

“So,” Percy says. “I wanna take you out on a date.”

Annabeth wriggles a little deeper into his arms. “That would be nice.”

Percy’s face lights up. “Really?”

“Yes really, Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth laughs. “Contrary to common opinion, I like spending time with you.”

Percy grins. “Wow. You know, I kind of thought you hated me.”

“Not really. I do have a thing for hot assholes, though.” Annabeth scrunches her nose. “Wait, no, I probably shouldn’t have said that when we’re naked.”

Percy’s grin spreads wider, and any impulse control she had flies out the window. She kisses him, in the way she’s wanted to ever since they talked in Santa Monica; softly, sweetly.

Percy’s hand tangles in her curls, tugging her closer, and Annabeth remembers that they are both very, very naked. “You don’t have a class, do you?”

“Nope,” He says into her mouth. “Nothing till eleven.”

Annabeth tangles their legs together, tracing the lettering tattoo below his neck with her fingertips. “Stay?”

Percy answers with a kiss. 

There is no way he’s this good all the time. 

That’s her thoughts as they lay there, covered in a light sheen of sweat. Annabeth exhales. “That was-”

“Fucking fantastic?”

She laughs. “Yeah.”

A comfortable pause settles, and Annabeth touches the trident tattoo on his stomach reverently. “Where’s this one from?”

Percy looks down. “Senior year. Mom said I had to wait until I was eighteen. Got it the day after my birthday.”

Annabeth taps the Greek script by his neck. “And this one?”

“A few months ago,” Percy answers. “It’s Greek. Says, “Your life means something because you live it yourself.”

“Why Greek?”

“It’s where my dad was from,” Percy explains. 

“Oh,” Annabeth murmurs. She taps his bicep. “Knew this wasn’t just a tan.”

“Mmm,” Percy responds. “I did hit the gene lottery a bit.”

“A bit? You’re, like, an actual Greek god.”

Percy beams. “Then you are a goddess.”

A blush burns in her cheeks, and Annabeth bites down a laugh. “How are you still single? There’s got to be some kind of catch here. There’s no way you’re this perfect.”

“Hate to disappoint, Wise Girl, but I _am_ kind of perfect.”

Annabeth smirks. “Is that so?”

“Mmhmm.”

She traces a hand over his abdomen. “Well, for once in your life, Percy Jackson, you,” she kisses him. “Are right.” He kisses her back, softly, in a way that feels more intimate then the night (and morning) they just shared together. 

Sheets rustle and the warmth of his chest leaves her, the covers turning cool in his absence. Annabeth whines, “No, don’t go.”

“I do have class at eleven,” Percy reminds her. “As tempting as you are, my mother would kill me if I skipped class in college.”

He stands, muscles rippling in the mid-morning sun. Annabeth props herself up on her elbows, taking the time just to look. “Mmm, yeah that definitely isn’t just a tan.” The fact that Percy Jackson, with his lip ring and blue-tinged hair, is standing naked in her bedroom is quite the miracle to believe.

Percy notices her behavior, a troublemaker’s smirk gracing his face. Turning around, he chuckles. “I can’t find my shirt.”

Annabeth feels a little blush coming to her cheeks. “There,” she points. It’s by the door, hanging precariously off a corner of her mirror.

Percy snags it, pulling it on over his bare chest. Annabeth inhales. Seeing him shirtless (naked, actually, but same deal) is one thing, but as he pulls it on, his muscles, they’re moving and stretching and  _ holy- _

“I can practically feel you looking,” Percy laughs as he tugs the shirt over his stomach. “You’re shameless.”

“Huhh, you were pretty happy with that last night.”

Percy guffaws, tossing his lip ring between his front teeth. His voice lowers dangerously. “I was. Your thighs did feel rather nice over my hips.”

Annabeth shivers. “Careful, or I’ll be tempted to pull that shirt off of you again.”

“Save it for tonight,” Percy laughs. Then he tenses. “If that’s ok, because I kind of wanted to take you out. Um, tonight. Like, on a date.” His last sentence is double the speed of the first one.

Annabeth stands, killing any shame about her unclothed form. “Percy,” she reassures. “You’re standing in my bedroom half naked. I would love to go on a date with you. Besides,” she winks. “Friday night is date night.” She turns around, grabbing an overlarge Harvard Sweatshirt her father got her when she was sixteen. It hangs at mid thigh.

Annabeth grins at him again. “I like you, Percy. Not just because of the fact that you’re blindingly hot, but because you’re funny, and sweet, and caring.” She boops him on the nose. “It also helps that you’re a miracle in bed, so,” She spins in a little circle. “Yeah.”

When her gaze latches back on Percy, he’s grinning. Stepping forward, her lover runs a hand along her hair. “I like you, too.” They kiss. It’s more like an affectionate bumping of noses, because both of them are smiling far too wide.

Percy steps back, and Annabeth remembers with a flame that he’s still not wearing pants. “And you are also wonderful in bed, Wise Girl.”

Annabeth scoffs in delight, eyes sparkling. “Ok there, Lover Boy.”

He turns around and scoops something off the ground, flinging it playfully at her face. Annabeth catches the thing, and she realizes it’s her own underwear, slightly crinkled. Her face turns red, throwing the undergarment in the laundry.

Percy winks amidst the process of pulling on briefs, a sight Annabeth is truly sad to see. She licks her lips, gestures teasing. “Your jeans are, um, in the hall.”

Percy gawks. “In the hall?”

Annabeth covers half of her face. “I may have… thrown them a little far. It’s pure luck they made it past the door.”

Percy ducks outside the door, returning in a pair of ripped black jeans with the chain belt still attached. “You are something else, Annabeth Chase.” 

Annabeth shrugs, feet dancing across the floor. “I do believe I am.” Her right hand slides into his back pocket, pulling him close. She’s delighted to find that he’s only an inch taller than her. Chastely, she kisses him. “Go. Be smart in your biology class. I’ve never understood nature anyway.”

Percy snickers. “You’re smarter than I’ll ever be, but ok Wise Girl.”

She relinquishes her hold on him, letting him go. “I’ll see you tonight, Seaweed Brain.”

“I’ll text you!” He cries while scooping his jacket up and throwing it over his shoulder. “I promise.”

Annabeth waves, biting her lip. Damn this boy. He’s turned her into a walking cliche.

The front door snaps shut, a sign Percy’s out of her apartment. Annabeth exhales, falling back onto her mattress. The hoodie rides up, and she pulls it down. Her own hands entwine in her curls, tugging. “Fuck,” she whispers reverently, hands now at her temples. “That happened.”

11:00 comes and goes, and Annabeth stands, composing herself. She picks up her blouse and jeans from yesterday, throwing both in the wash. Usually she hates blouses, but for once she wanted to look nice with her Dad’s family. Well, her family. Same thing.

Chuckling, she realizes Percy didn’t even rip any of the buttons. “He’s a keeper,” she mumbles to herself. “As if I didn’t decide that already.”

A few embarrassing objects find their way into the trash can, and Annabeth straightens her duvet that got positively crumpled in last night’s… activities. 

A blush colours her cheeks as she remembers Percy’s olive legs and the way he moved on top of her. She spoke the truth earlier, Percy is good... under the covers.

“God, I’m sounding like a grandmother,” she chastises herself. “You can say sex, Annabeth. You’re a college student. One night stands were your entire romantic life before you met him.”

With a final tug, her room is re-adjusted to a rather clean look, identical to it had been the day before. Looking down, it pings that she’s still wearing an oversize hoodie and nothing else. 

Rummaging through her drawers, she grabs underwear, a bra, socks, and a pair of skinny jeans as well as a pleasant salmon v-neck that brings out the colors in her eyes. Next, the hairbrush is put to good use as she attacks her hair. “Damn,” Annabeth marvels out loud, ripping the brush through a particular tough knot by her neck. “What-?” Faintly, she remembers Percy’s hands in her hair, using her as an anchor while his hips smoothly-

Nope.

Annabeth scoffs ruefully to herself, and her stomach rumbles. Today is one of those rare days when she doesn’t have any classes until one thirty, so she can sleep in and have a little time to herself. Really, she should be doing work right now, but everything is just too happy for that. 

She has a date. With Percy Jackson. This is a squeal-worthy event, despite the fact that she told herself she’d never be one of those girls. Who gives a shit about social stigmas when she literally has the nicest boyfriend of all time?

God, she can’t wait for tonight. 


	4. pink shirts and pancakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy and Annabeth go on a date. Percy reveals his past, and it gets domestic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for sticking with me through this little cloud of a story! I love writing ones like these, so comment prompts because I'm always looking for new ideas!

Tonight is here. 

The fact that she’s shaking in her boots is… unexpected. 

Annabeth’s dressed up a little, exchanging her sneakers for low-heeled grey faux fuzzy boots, ones that clack pleasantly when she walks. She kept the same shirt from this morning, and the jeans, both well-fitting enough to look fancy with the right accessories. She adds her little owl earrings to her ears below her hair that’s lovingly plaited across her head in a french braid, and a dusting of grey eyeshadow coats her eyelids. 

Annabeth grabs her little silver overcoat, the late autumn air threatening to chill. 

Like magic, her doorbell chimes. Annabeth takes one last look in the mirror, grabbing her purse and stuffing her phone into her pocket. “Coming!” she cries, clicking her way out of the bedroom and to the door.

She opens it, and her breath hitches. It’s Percy, but… not Percy?

His lip ring is gone, hair tossed naturally on top of his head. He’s wearing black denim skinny jeans that are surprisingly unripped, and a blue shirt that matches the color of his dyed hair. A modest leather jacket is draped over his shoulders. “Hey.”

Annabeth exhales. “Wow.”

Percy smirks, giving her a mock spin. “What do you think?”

“Hmm,” says Annabeth, pretending to contemplate. “Shirt is nice, but…” She leans forward, lips brushing his ear. “I prefer how the lip ring feels, you know?”

Annabeth’s pleased when she sees a blush colour his olive cheeks. 

“Careful, or I’ll drag you back in there and get rid of that striking top for you.”

“You like it?” Annabeth asks.

Percy nods. It’s still flirting, but it’s branched less into sex and more into ‘Jesus Christ you look amazing’. 

Percy gestures to the hallway. “You ready, Wise Girl?”

“You bet, Seaweed Brain.”

He takes her hand, and leads her down the hall. 

Annabeth’s boots click pleasantly, just like always, as they walk into the restaurant. It’s beautiful, actually. Modern decor and slightly packed tables. A delightful bubble of warmth blankets the place, graced with the background noises of laughter and chit-chat.

The hostess leads them to a table for two, promising them a waitress will be with them shortly. 

Annabeth’s fingers twitch on the menu delicately, fiddling with the leather binding that’s beginning to fray. “This place is really nice,” she marvels. “I can’t believe I’ve never thought to come here before.”

Percy beams. “That’s great!” He sobers a little, eyes scanning the menu. “I’m… not really good at this.”

“Me neither,” Annabeth admits. She licks her lips and shrugs. “Well, can we be awkward together?”

Percy bites his lips, perhaps feeling the absence of his lip ring. “I have a feeling that this date is going to be different then any other I’ve ever been on. Good, different, of course.”

Annabeth grins back at him. “I hope.”

Their waitress arrives at the table, a young Hispanic man who’s name tag identifies him as Raphael. “What can I get for you guys tonight?” he asks. 

Percy orders the rigatoni, and Annabeth picks the pasta carbonara.

“You know what?” Percy whispers over the table. “I have no idea what I’m ordering. To be honest.”

“Me neither,” Annabeth giggles back. “I just saw pasta and went for it.”

“We make a right couple.”

“A perfect couple.”

Percy raises his water glass. “Cheers to that.”

Neither of them are of age just yet, there’s still a year or so to go before they get there. Annabeth grins while taking a sip.

The night ages fast, Percy’s presence enough to distract her from the clock’s insistent moving. 

When the check comes, Percy insists on paying. Annabeth sighs. “Percy-”

“Annabeth,” he mimics. “I’ve got plenty of money from my dad’s side of the family. You can get the next one.” His last phrase is attached with a wink that makes Annabeth smile.

“Walk you home?” Percy offers, and how could she turn him down? He offers his arm, and Annabeth bats it away with a laugh. Instead, she grabs his hand.

They leave the restaurant like that, Annabeth pulling her sweater tight around her shoulders. 

“I hate to be a walking cliche,” Percy suggests. “But do you want mine?”

Annabeth grins at him. “I’m ok. Leaving it on you is more beneficial to me anyways.”

Percy raises his eyebrows at the innuendo, their entwined hands swinging between the two of them. Annabeth looks up at him, her gaze flicking away almost immediately. That’s when Annabeth realizes they’re back at her dorm. 

“So…” Annabeth stipulates. “Um, do you… want to come up?”

“Yeah,” Percy breathes. “That would be nice.”

They climb the stairs together, walking down the sheltered hallway. Annabeth unlocks her door slowly, the hinges creaking as she pushes it open. 

Percy follows her inside. She stands there awkwardly for a minute, refusing to meet his eyes. 

“I’m completely horrible at this,” Annabeth confesses. 

“Don’t forget I am too,” Percy agrees. He takes a cautious step forward, watching for her reaction. Annabeth doesn’t shy away. In fact, she steps forward herself. 

“Percy,” Annabeth whispers. It’s cliche but this close to his emerald eyes, she  _ doesn’t care _ . 

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

Annabeth lets her eyes flutter shut, feeling nothing for a second then the delicate touch of fingers on her jawbone. Then the sound of leather rustling, and soft lips on her own. Percy holds her face in his hands, and Annabeth’s eyes fly open.

She wraps her arms around Percy’s waist, shivering with how his hands travel from her face to all the way down to her spine. 

Then Percy’s tongue is in her mouth, and she forgets how to breathe. 

They’re stepping towards the bedroom subconsciously, Percy leading her in gently and cautiously. 

Annabeth’s on fire. Her hands scrabble at his jacket, tugging insistently. “Off,” she whispers.

Percy pulls it off, shirt along with it. Annabeth latches onto him, kicking off her boots before they fall onto the bed together. Annabeth rolls on top of him. 

“You know,” she gasps. “As soon as I saw you in that damn shirt, I wanted to take it off.”

“Mmmm,” Percy pants. “Maybe I’ll clean up more often.”

“You don’t have to,” Annabeth reassures. “You’re hot in whatever you wear, especially leather and chains.”

Her hands fumble with the rest of Percy’s clothes, unbuttoning his pants with a kind of ferocity she didn’t know she had. 

Percy arches onto the mattress, gasping for air. His hands pull her clothes off, and within minutes it’s just them. Percy’s hands grip tight onto her hips, and Annabeth’s in his hair. They go down epic, grand gasps and twitching fingers and flexing thighs, and Annabeth sinks into his chest with a final cry before relaxing.

It’s almost the same as last night. There’s barely any time before she’s slipped into dreams by his side.

When she wakes, the sun is shining. The first thing Annabeth feels is Percy’s hands through her hair. “Good morning,” he murmurs. 

A shiver runs down her spine; one of the good ones. She snuggles deeper into his torso. “Good morning.”

Percy’s fingers caress her waist gently. “You know, I didn’t think it could get better, but you’ve proven me wrong. Again.”

She lets out a laugh at that, curling into her lover’s chest. “I wanna be your girlfriend,” she murmurs. 

Percy’s smile- she can feel it against her hair. “Only if you’ll have me as your boyfriend.”

Annabeth bites her lip in excitement, then kisses his. 

Percy’s hands skim her back, pulling her close. They tickle her spine, but it doesn’t make her flinch because it happens with her hair all the time. 

“You know,” Percy comments huskily. “As soon as I saw you in that shirt I wanted to rip it off.”

“Is that so?”

“Extremely,” Percy grins. He rolls over, arms bracketing her head. “You make me crazy, Annabeth Chase.”

“Do I?” she laughs.

He kisses her, but there’s no heat in it. It’s caring, and sweet, and beautiful in ways she doesn’t know how. This is what heaven tastes like, Annabeth thinks faintly.

Mutually they roll out of bed. Annabeth stares unashamedly as Percy rizes, his un-clothed olive physique bathed in mid-morning sunlight. 

For a second, she’s worried that he’ll leave. 

“Because I wasn’t able to stay yesterday,” Percy asks cautiously. “Do you mind if I…?”

Her grin gives him an answer, and Annabeth tosses him a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt with regret. “As much as I love all of this,” she gestures to his body. “I don’t want to scar the neighbors.”

“Good call,” Percy responds. He tugs the sweatpants over his hips, while Annabeth pulls on some underwear and her big sweatshirt. 

“Help me make pancakes?” she asks.

Percy grins. “Saturday was always pancake day.”

“Me too,” Annabeth answers. They walk to the kitchen together. Her expression becomes bittersweet. “I, um, that was usually the only time I got to spend with my dad. We always made pancakes together because everyone else was asleep.”

Percy exhales. “I’d say I’m sorry but I know it doesn’t help.”

Annabeth shuffles in place for a second before walking into the kitchen. Leaning down, she begins to pull out kitchen supplies. A bowl, pan, and some ingredients. Percy opens the fridge, pulling out milk, butter, and eggs. 

Annabeth raises her eyebrows. “So you do know how to do this.”

Percy shrugs. “I was always bad at first because I could never read the directions right, but once I memorized the recipe? Bingo.”

Annabeth makes a noise of interest. “I just had to check everything, like, six times.”

“That works too,” Percy muses. He offers her the flour and baking powder. “How does your recipe go?”

Annabeth shrugs. “I just add a little bit of everything and it works.”

Percy blinks. “You’ve never used a recipe.”

“My dad did!” Annabeth protests. “I just followed him!”

“Ok,” Percy agrees. “Lemme set up some basic parameters. One egg, same amount of flour and milk, and always put vinegar in the milk.”

Annabeth wrinkles her nose. “Vinegar? Why?”

“It makes it into buttermilk, and makes the pancake more dense.”

“Wow,” Annabeth marvels. “Who knew the local punk boy knew how to cook.”

Percy mixes flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt together. “My mother was a cooking genius, so I guess it runs in the family.”

Annabeth unscrews the vinegar bottle, about to pour some in, when Percy grabs her wrist. “Um, Annabeth?”

On closer inspection the bottle turns out to be vodka, and not vinegar. “Oh,” she admits with a blush. “They… they look the same.”

Percy chuckles. “That would have been interesting. 

Annabeth returns with the vinegar and mixes the wet ingredients in a smaller bowl

.Percy snaps straight up like a ruler. “Hey, do you have blue food coloring?”

“Uh, why?” She hands it to him, and Percy looks down at the little dropper bottle. “Can I put some in?”

Annabeth blinks. “Sure, but tell me this story? Please?”

Percy lets a few drops fall into the wet ingredients, stirring them together slowly. “When I was little, my mom married. She’d never been married to my dad, and we actually thought he was lost at sea then, but that’s another story for another time. Anyway, this guy’s name was Gabe, but I called him Smelly Gabe, because he frickin’ stunk. Physically and in personality.”

Percy folds the wet mixture into the dry ingredients, and Annabeth watches his slightly shaking hands, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Anyway,” Percy continues. “He was an ass. I’d go to boarding schools in the year for ‘troubled kids’ because I kept getting kicked out of school. I didn’t even try anything,” he insists. “Trouble would just… find me.”

Annabeth sprays oil on the pan, turning up the heat. “Go on.”

“So when I was out of the house for months at school, he’d like, completely trash my room. I’d come home to it filled with magazines and smelling like beer and cigarette smoke. Petty stuff like that.” 

Percy looks up at her, and she realizes how much he hates, or at least hated, this man. “My mom- my mom is practically an angel. No matter what horrible grades I got, or what insane crap hit, she was always there for me. And Gabe? All he’d do is sit on the couch and yell at her to bring him a beer. He wasted her money on bets and poker, and only moved his ass off the couch to piss and hit me. And her. I didn’t know it, but he hit her too. That was the end of it for me. I went bat-shit crazy on him, pulled him up and started yelling. I pushed him out of the door, and basically told him to fuck off or he wouldn’t like what I did the next time I saw him. I… I never saw him again. The police still haven’t found him.” All through his story, Percy’s hands are calmly stirring the batter.

He pours a pancake. “I found out a few months later that my mom married him because she had to. Apparently, he did actually make money, and it was the only way to keep us out of homeless shelters. She let me kick him out because she’d finally gotten a writing deal for a book. But the thing that I’ve been trying to get at here is she and Gabe had this huge argument over blue food, whether it was real or not. It seemed like it would blow over, but it didn’t. All food was blue by then, blue corn chips, blue-raspberry jelly beans, blueberry smoothies- she did everything she could to prove the bastard wrong. So every time I make blue food, it’s a form of respect to my mom and fuck you to the old bastard.”

He flips the pancake, smiling despite his breaking narrative. “Well, I have already heard most of your sob story, it’s time I told you mine.”

Annabeth lets her shoulders fall, flinging her arms around Percy’s torso. “I’d kiss you but we’re a little too close to a hot pan,” she whispers into his ear. 

Percy chuckles. “Mmmm, I can keep on my feet Chase.” He takes the pancake off the pan and onto the waiting plate, and pours a new one all while half-wrapped around Annabeth. “See, I’m a man of many talents.”

She kisses him, and he drops the spatula. It clatters onto the counter, pancakes on the pan now unheeded and forgotten. 

His hands feel broad on her back, spanning her waist and encircling her. His grasp makes her feel safe, and warm. 

Their lips connect again and again, her hands draping over his shoulders and around his neck. One climbs up, grasping in his hair. Their hips brush and Annabeth remembers just how little they’re wearing. Percy’s hands travel dangerously low, and faintly Annabeth hears the sound of a key scraping in the lock. 

Before either of them can react, a voice fills her little dorm. “Annabeth! Oh my god, you will not believe what’s gonna happen! It’s so amazing-”

Piper stops talking, gawking at her and Percy in the kitchen. “What the fuck.”

That’s when Annabeth remembers that her hands are still in Percy’s hair and his hands are practically on her ass. She slips out of his embrace with a look of regret. “Um, hi Pipes. This is Percy, my… boyfriend.”

Percy waves awkwardly, scooping up the flipper and flipping the pancake. It’s a little brown, Annabeth will admit.

Piper grins. “Oh my god. Ok, I’ll come back later. Text me when you two are done…” she makes a motion with her hands that could be many, many things. “Bye Annabeth!”

The door closes again with a snap, and Annabeth begins to laugh weakly. “That was horrific timing.”

“Mmmm,” Percy murmurs. “There are worse ways of finding out.”

Annabeth swats him well-meaningly. “Percy!”

He laughs, and pours another pancake. 

The pancakes are  _ delicious. _ Whatever Percy’s onto with this vinegar milk thing, it’s excellent. Together, the pancakes are gone in a flash. Percy practically drowns his in syrup, and Annabeth would have chided him if she weren’t drowning hers in butter. 

“How,” Annabeth giggles, as they’re cleaning up together. “Honestly, how do you still eat like a teenage boy.”

Percy shrugs. “Being punk takes a lot out of you, Blondie. We gotta recharge.”

“Blondie?”

Percy wrinkles his nose. “No?”

Annabeth smiles softly. “Stick with Wise Girl.” She slides the batter bowels into the sink. “You’re always Seaweed Brain in my book.”

“Hmm,” Percy contemplates. “I thought I was ‘punk asshole’?”

Annabeth tilts her head to the side. “I think I’ll change that. What do you think of 'Seaweed Brain'?”

He kisses her gently. “Sounds perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol told you it got domestic

**Author's Note:**

> ya'll i should be learning calculus or at least finishing my two slow burns in progress, but nope, I'm writing this fluffy mess. Lol pray for my procrastination skills, because they be soaring, bitches.
> 
> come yell at me on tumblr @all-this-panic-still-no-disco and come to instagram for a trash can of my faves @liza_marri


End file.
